Negative
by xxbeyondxbirthdayxx
Summary: Negative: a processed piece of film where the image is reversed so that the shadows are light and the highlights are dark. What is it in the scarred, but insanely beautiful model facing him, that makes Matt so eager to focus and shoot the fragility under the tough attitude, the wounds under the fat ego?
1. Chapter 1

_**Note:** I wanted to finish TSFMS before I ever started anything new but it seems that inspiration always comes with bad timing, so while I'm still updating TSFMS, I will also be posting Negative and With Every Heart Beat, both short multichaptered.  
This is by no means a funny fic, even if there is some humour here and there in this chapter. It's pretty much the opposite._  
_Enjoy (or not XD)_

* * *

Matt groaned as he heard the familiar sound of an incoming email. He had hoped that the possible work Ken had said he might send him today would stay an impossible possibility, but his associate obviously had no idea of how much Matt needed this day off.

Ken wore the name perfectly. If Barbie's plastic boyfriend came to life, it would definitely be his associate. Blond, hair always cut and combed in a 'out-of-the-hairdresser' perfection, tanned skin, toned body, tall and always a flash of white teeth eating his face. Matt looked even more like the short, dishevelled redhead that he was compared to mister America. Perfection never hit his hair, it just sat on top of his head like some too long and untamed jungle, falling into eyes that at least he had of a more vibrant blue than Ken. Somehow it seemed enough to bring some ass back to his apartment when he felt like getting laid.

The redhead rolled on his back, and groaned again just out of annoyance. He'd been up all night partying at the launch of a new bar in town since him and Ken had been hired to shoot the event, but soon it had been Ken shooting and Matt getting a bit too drunk to his associate's likings.  
The shoot over, Ken had left and Matt had officially left the photographer's role to transform the lens-through contact by some physical one.

Whatever cutie had been in his bed last night had left, and it took Matt a moment to remember if it had been male or female. As he sat, stirring and groaning a third time for good mesure, the slight pain in his ass gave away the gender of his one night stand.  
"Damn, I overdid it this time..." he yawned, half complaining now that his temples started on boombox mode, dragging his feet to the kitchen to fetch some painkillers. He probably had drunk way too much considering the hammering in his head, but he had been drunk too fast to remember exactly how much he had downed last night.

Two Advils and a cup of coffee later, he was sat at his desk, browsing through the batch of pictures Ken had sent him for retouching. _Do what you can, you're the specialist_, the blond had written.

Ken and Matt had started their collaboration eight months ago. Both were employed in a photographers agency at the same exact task as what they were doing now, wondering why they were working for the minimal wage when their boss was driving a Bentley and eating at the Ritz, and had both simply resigned to get the full benefits of their works within their own society.  
Ken was a very good photographer, just like Matt, but Matt had better skills at editing, which often came in handy for shoots like what Matt had under his eyes at the moment.

Ken had told him, when coming back from the studio that day, that no matter the angle, the lightning and the filters, he was almost positive that the pictures weren't exploitable. The model was perfect for the theme, he said, but he had a scar that partly showed even with back and opposite profile poses, and he wanted Matt to edit that.  
"Why couldn't they hire a model without a scar?" had asked Matt in response.

Now, he could only understand why. Indeed, the model was perfect for the role. A LGBT rights campaign with the motto _Dare to call me a fag?_  
The model screamed gay without a single doubt, and yet, Matt had to admit that you surely wouldn't want to call that guy a fag, or any other colourful name. The model was pulling out dangerous so well that Matt averted his eyes from the cold look on the screen.

Matt chuckled. He was getting intimidated by a picture.  
Focusing his eyes on anywhere else than the face of the long haired model, it was a totally different reaction, unexpected, that had him light a cigarette to cool down.  
"Damn, that body..." Matt mumbled to himself, blowing smoke on the side from the corner of his mouth to prevent it to alter his sight, even for a second. The lean torso, bare, the leather pants' waistline way too low not to let the beginning of curves moulded in the garment appear...

Matt surprised himself when, a few minutes later, he masturbated under the shower. And to think that he had gotten a good shag last night, that was saying a lot about the model's hotness.

After some more coffee, some more cigarettes and badly cooked scrambled eggs on toasts, Matt decided to take the request a bit more seriously, but a few hours later, he could only come to the same conclusion than Ken: the shoot was unusable.  
Ken had taken the job because his cousin was at the head of a modest model agency and could only get one of his models on the spot because he had promised to the guy in charge of the promotion for the campaign that he could get him a discount on one of the best photographers in town if his model agency was chosen. Matt hadn't been particularly enthralled to lower their prices since they had been on the market for a short amount of time but Ken could hardly refuse and had gone alone with minimal gear to lessen the cost of the operation. Thus the fact that, even if the pictures were professional, quality-wise, they could have been better. Matt was slightly mad at Ken on that one: better use the same material as usual and get the job done correctly, they have a business to run and it doesn't matter if the job is paid less, the result has to be up to their standards for the society to rank among the bests.

The redhead was good with Photoshop, but there was always something wrong with the pictures no matter how much he worked on them. He couldn't place his finger on the problem, but even if the skin looked perfectly smooth, it didn't feel right. He insisted a bit longer, using brushes and filters but no, it wouldn't do. It was not that it didn't look natural, he didn't know, really... oh well. He had to call Ken.

Sighing, he hung up.  
Ken and him fought on a regular basis so it was no surprise that the verbal exchange that had just ended had been a bit animated. It never threatened their collaboration, it was always quite childish and in a challenging way, but this time Mail, even if he wasn't mad at Ken to the slightest, was pretty annoyed.  
Ken was all appearances, he wanted to run his own society at first because he could brag about being his own boss, and already saw himself as a renowned photographer that everyone would tear away from each other. Matt on the other hand was a perfectionist, and wanted each and every job done the best they could. Being good at retouching pictures didn't mean he'd have to do it for Ken all the time, they'd better be good without edition.

The call had ended in his disfavour, and now he had to prove to his associate that himself could do better pictures with the same equipment. Put two machos together and see what happens? This, obviously.

Matt called the agency to settle an appointment with the long haired model. He was a bit surprised to hear the secretary tell him that she would come back to him as soon as she would have located the model so they could agree on a date for the shooting. Since when did the models decide for their appointments? It was usually the agency that had a hand on their timetable, not the opposite.  
And... located? Was he some kind of wisp? Didn't he have a phone?

He informed Ken quickly by email, and since he could now benefit from the rest of his day off, which wasn't much unfortunately, he lit his computer off and settled on his couch, in front of the TV with a beer in hand.

Matt was dozing off when his phone rang.  
"Mr Jeevas, hello again, this is Kim from Lowell Models, I have Mello, the model you requested, with me here. You're lucky he visited us today, now, when do you want to shoot him? We can plan..." She was cut off.  
The redhead heard some shuffling and the secretary protest in the background before a male voice resounded in the phone.  
"Thursday 7pm, same studio as the first time, and I hope that you're better than your damn associate because you're making me lose my fucking time."  
The call came to an end abruptly before Matt could even reply.  
When did he want to shoot the model? Right now. And not with a camera. The guy sure had some nerve, but the redhead was used to capricious pretty faces, and this one would walk along the right track just like the others once Matt would have showed him who was in charge. Especially when said model's name was Mellow. What is that for a name?

Thursday, 7pm? Matt almost wished he had had something else planned that day just so he could shove it down this Mellow's throat. Who said the model could decide, damnit?  
But well, he didn't have anything planned, and apparently, getting a hold of Mellow seemed difficult for the agency. That was pretty strange, he would have to ask Ken so the latter could ask his brother.

It was only Sunday and the campaign was waiting for those pictures, Matt was a bit annoyed since it would only leave him one day after the shoot to retouch the pictures since they were due for the next Saturday. He had to do better than Ken, they were already losing money on this contract.

So on Thursday, Matt arrived at the studio with the cameras and accessories that Ken had used for the first shoot, but had also brought with him some more effective gear with which he would shoot after using the first equipment, just so he had something to use, should his bet with Ken produce unusable pictures once again. That wouldn't change anything for the model, but at least he could honour the contract. They had a reputation to hold after all.

He was early, so he could have time to adjust everything and start shooting as soon as the model would be here.  
The more time passed, the more nervous Matt became, though. He did know why: the model was apparently full of himself, but still, he was really hot, and Matt had spent every evening since Sunday watching the untouched pictures, detailing the scar, the face, the toned abs and sexy curves, and those eyes... The lightning was such that he couldn't say which colour they were, but the look was cold, direct, making him uneasy each time he looked at it.  
He had jerked off so much looking at those pictures, although he wasn't obsessed by sex in any way - even if he liked a good fuck from time to time – that he wondered if he could eventually invite said model for a drink after the shoot.

It made him nervous that it made him nervous. He wasn't nervous usually. So why was he nervous now? Oh fuck.  
The model was just a pretentious brat, he'd have him eating in his hand in no time, they always did.  
Then he'd bring him home, would realise the fantasy and would stop thinking about it, and that was all, nothing to get worked up about.

The door suddenly clicked open and closed and Matt turned around.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Note:** I'm back, and trying to get everything completed when I said it would be, which means I have three days left to write at least 6 chapters (but even if I'm able to, knowing myself and my poor ability to guess how many chapters are left with my fics, it probably means closer to 10/12 all fics together - Negative, With Every Heart Beat and The Zoo Hypothesis - if I can at least finish this one I'll be happy...)_

* * *

Matt had wished that he'd find the model less intimidating in those regular clothes he was wearing right now, simple faded skinny jeans with sneakers, and a black hoodie over a white tee. But no matter the outfit, the person in it was staring at him with such a cold gaze that he could feel himself stripped layer by layer until those eyes were looking straight into his deeper thoughts. And the scar on half his face didn't help in making him less intimidating... damn, it had felt so unreal on the pictures, but seeing it now, it was... disturbing.  
Not the disgusting kind of feeling, simply raising a lot of questions. How he got it, if it hurt, how it hadn't stopped him from modelling... and partly making Matt want to stare at it, although he was respectful enough not to.

But as much as he didn't want the model to feel bothered by him scrutinizing his face, the model didn't seem to have that problem, and kept on looking at Matt with a gaze that Matt would have called defying, if not purely hostile.  
_Come on Matt, he's only pretending, don't get this worked up!_ He thought to himself, looking away, trying to regain some self-control. Which wouldn't happen right now, obviously.

The model, after pulling a few garments out of his bag, was undressing right there to get changed, uncaring for Matt's presence, baring himself to slide into tight leather pants. Those same pants that had Matt trying to imagine what they hid, and now at least he knew: his wet dreams for the next fifty years.

Matt turned around, fumbling with his gear, but he failed miserably at hiding his embarrassment as he heard the guy chuckle in his back. The photographer wasn't so sure now who would be eating in the hand of the other...  
He breathed, finding his composure back. He was a professional, not a teenager, and this was not going anywhere else than on film.

"I don't have all night." The voice that called him to order had a hint of annoyance that had the redhead glare at this Mellow who apparently thought he could be bossing the shoot.  
"I don't either, so you'd better be good because I'm not leaving without something exploitable." He bit back. He could play that game too.  
But he should have guessed that Mr Sarcasm would have something to retort. Of course he had.  
"I'm not the one who fucked up the first shoot. I shouldn't even be there, I'm always good, and I was the first time."

Matt stared a few seconds at the model, not really sure if that was anger or sarcasm actually. This guy was on edge for sure. Oh... probably one of those kids on crack that make loads as models to pay for their fix and live the glittery life...  
Matt hated those. They always started all pretty and full of confidence, and slowly became arrogant, keeping the attitude until they fell off the train, already looking too old and spent at 25 from too much partying and all the shit they pumped into their body. This one was still fresh and sexy, but already unable to tone it down.

"Well then, since I'm the best photographer in town, we're heading for an amazing shoot, Mister Perfect."  
Matt winked and readied himself behind the lens._ Better not take this guy too seriously..._

The redhead didn't give directions. The model had already done the shoot, he knew what he had to do. And he wouldn't be following directions anyway, Matt was pretty positive about that, so he didn't bother.  
The blond walked slowly, almost looking bored and fed up already, to the right spot, just under the lights, and Matt had to remember how to breathe as air caught in his throat: the model was gorgeous.  
Not the sexy-as-hell kind of gorgeous, it was beyond that. This Mellow was owning the whole place, and gracefully, even. He mixed dangerous with feline, and the aura around him was feral.

Slowly, he turned his head so his eyes focused on Matt, still turning his back to him, in the position Matt had seen him on the first pictures. There was some life all of a sudden down south, but Matt breathed it away. Worst timing ever...  
_Damn, this shoot is going to be a hell of a hard time... pun intended._

Matt shot for a good amount of time, Mellow slightly moving, still keeping a similar position with different angles.  
The photographer straightened at some point. He felt like coming back to his senses. That guy was addicting for sure, and Matt had some pretty good close-ups as well as the intended photos. Close-ups that the client didn't need to the slightest, but who said Matt couldn't get some extras for himself?

"Pause." Matt simply said, as he replaced the first gear by bigger guns. The deal with his associate was taken care of, now he'd shoot with the usual material to make sure the pictures weren't useless like the first time.  
"I'll be right back.'" Matt closed the door of the studio behind him and headed for the vending machine in the lobby. He got himself some coffee, but as he was about to climb the stairs again, he grabbed a water bottle as well.

Back in the studio, he handed the bottle to the model, who was leaning on the wall, arms crossed, and looking annoyed. Angry.  
"Why the frown?" Matt asked playfully, "Did you get a smilectomy or something?"  
He waved the bottle in front of the model, that had kept his arms crossed, apparently refusing to take it.  
The humour landed flat, and Matt sighed. "Water won't ruin your diet, you know."  
"Models aren't all on a diet, _you know_." the other retorted, still keeping his position.  
"You're right, some are on crack or cocaine."  
"Some are simply naturally thin." The model ignored the hint.  
"Oh come on, don't tell me that with those abs you don't at least work out!" Matt chuckled.  
The model rolled his eyes and left the wall, snatching the bottle from Matt's hand. The redhead couldn't help but stare as the other drank.  
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, the blond scowled at Matt.  
"I don't do extras."  
"Did I say anything?" Matt was somehow stung but he didn't show it. Of course he had imagine he could maybe bring the cutie home for a good time, but he hadn't made it _that _ obvious, had he?  
"It's written all over you. So I'm making it clear, I won't go out with you."  
"Oh.. I see, not good enough for you, Mister Perfect?" Now Matt was really aggrieved, but really starting to want to slap that Mellow at the same time. He was so fucking full of himself!

"Let's go back to work." The model huffed.  
Matt kept silent and simply shot the same poses again, this time with a better material. At some point, he had what he needed for the client, yet he had an idea.  
Straightening, he stared at the model a few seconds.  
"Face me." He asked, repositioning himself behind his camera.  
"That's not what they asked for."  
"That's what I'm asking for. Face me." Damn, couldn't the guy just do as told for once?  
"If you have what you need, then I'm leaving."

Matt was ready to pull at his hair. Or the model's hair preferably.  
"Can you explain to me why you're being such an asshole since we started?" He seethed, "I'm surprised you still have a job."  
"At least I'm not the one acting like a perv in heat here. Look at yourself, you're almost drooling on the floor. I'm a model, not a piece of ass. If you had enough respect for me not to lust over me so blatantly I might not be so openly eager to leave."

Matt opened wide eyes. He hadn't intended to make the guy feel this way, and by no means had he thought he was disrespecting him. Yet, he could understand the situation and immediately wanted to amend for it.  
"I'm sorry. Really. Yes, it's true, I would have been happy to ask you out or even spend the night with you, but you can't blame me, look at you!"  
"What do you mean?" The blond was ready to bite, walking to Matt, and it didn't bode anything good to the latter, who stepped back.  
"Hey, calm down! I just mean that you're absolutely gorgeous, drop-dead gorgeous." Matt raised his hands in a peace offering. The blond had his fists into balls along his sides, and the photographer didn't want one to land on his face to the slightest.

The model stood there, looking straight into Matt's eyes, obviously trying to gauge how serious the other was.  
That's when Matt finally had a good view of the model's eyes. From the distance, and even with close-ups, he hadn't been able to distinguish their colour, the light reflecting in them giving them all kinds of shades.  
They were between blue and grey, clear, almost transparent looking, if not for the darker circle around the iris. Stunningly beautiful.

And those eyes had the side effect to shut Matt up totally. As much as he had wanted to talk right at that moment, no words passed his lips, they were still caught in the back of his mind in some kind of daze and he was unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Do you have what you need for the client, yes or no?" The blond asked in a venomous tone.  
"Y...yes." Matt stuttered, regaining some of his mind. He couldn't lie, but he regretted it, because the model would soon be gone and Matt hadn't gone further with his idea.

The model was about to get changed.  
"How much for one more hour? Your price is mine." Matt felt stupid for asking things this way, it sounded like he was trying to hire a hooker. And the blond surely wouldn't appreciate if he took it that way.  
"What do you want from me?" The model stood up from his bag, his tee-shirt in his hand, still bare chest from the shoot. He looked angry still. That probably was a constant for him, Matt thought.  
"Pictures, only pictures."  
"I don't do naked."  
"I already saw you naked anyway." Matt tried to lift up the mood. "Come on, just some more pictures, nothing erotic, nothing special, just front pictures. Pants on. Ok?" At that point, Matt knew he was close to get what he wanted, photography-wise at least, and would have done anything to convince the guy.

"Ok. Two hundred bucks, cash."  
Two hundred dollars? This Mellow surely had some high expectations! He probably didn't even make that much with the whole shoot, considering the small size of the agency he was working for.  
But Matt had the means so it wasn't really a problem, and he was an inch from getting those pictures so now wasnt' the time to negotiate.  
"Agreed, but I don't have that much cash on me so..."  
"Then I'm gone. You know where to call, get back to me when you have the money, but until then, you don't get anything more from me."

The door shut and the blond disappeared, leaving Matt trying to decide if he should be sad that the model had left before he could take those pictures he craved to get, or happy because he would have an opportunity later. If he had it at all, he wasn't so sure with that temperamental bitch. He could change his mind, who knew?


	3. Chapter 3

_**Note:** I'm keeping up with daily updates minus the lack of them on last Friday and Saturday :)_  
_Now that The Zoo Hypothesis is complete, I can go back to my other stories. I won't be starting anything new until I'm done with Negative at least, and TSFMS at best._  
_Negative is a short one, and I'm not underestimating it this time, there's no ground for a monster fic. I should be back to TSFMS at the end of the week._  
_This one is going to be darker, as I already said, and not funny. I've used up all my fluff stash with TZH anyway XD_

_This chapter is the last of the setting up, things will begin to happen after that one._

* * *

Just as Matt parked in his designated spot, in the underground parking of his building, he noticed Ken leaning on the wall, waiting for him.  
"So, how was the shooting?" His associate asked with a grin. But Matt had his dose of Mister Perfect for the day and wasn't in the mood for a chat about work.  
"Go home Ken, we'll see that tomorrow." He replied in an irritated tone.  
"So you have the time to edit the pictures and cheat? No way man, you show me everything right now!" Ken laughed.

Matt just wanted to chill out with a beer in front of the TV right now, and above everything, he really didn't want Ken to see the extra pictures he had allowed himself to take for his own pleasure. It was already lucky that he hadn't had some more time with the model or he would have had to explain all the rest too. But his associate didn't need to see the close-ups, especially not the ones that focused on a certain part of the model's anatomy.

Then he changed his mind and turned around to face his friend that was following him.  
"How did your own shoot go with the guy?" Matt asked. After all, Ken was the first to see that Mellow, and hadn't mentioned anything about his temper. Which had Matt wondering if he was the one that had triggered this behaviour or if the model had been the same with Ken. Matt was confused since Ken hadn't seemed to find the model irritating or anything, but it couldn't be himself that had made him angry, or at least not completely, since the guy had been obnoxious from the beginning, right from the first time Matt had him on the phone.

"Fine, why that question? You look upset, did the diva do something?"  
"Ah! So you think he's a diva! I knew that he couldn't have reserved that special treatment to me, the guy seemed too naturally bitchy for it to be a one-time temper fit. I'm reassured." Matt explained.  
"Well, he reminded me of a girl on PMS but apart from that he acted professional, I didn't have to complain."  
"Then you're lucky because I almost got bitten by the bitch..."

Ken laughed out loud. "Did you ask him out?"  
"No, he short-circuited me right from the start. Too bad, he was such a cutie..." Matt sighed, "Why you ask?"  
The question was so directly linked with what had happened at the studio that Matt knew Ken had some more informations that he would be interested to know.  
"You should have told me the details, then I would have known better how to handle the guy."  
"There wasn't much to say actually, the director of the campaign hit on him and he got shut off pretty nastily, but as I said, apart from that, the model was professional, just kind of overreacting when it came to the director's flirting."  
"Mmh..." Matt started to think that this Mellow clearly had a problem with other guys. He hadn't stated that he wasn't gay, that's usually what people would have said if they weren't interested in the same sex turning around them, so that wasn't that... Weird guy, really.

"Seriously, Ken, I just need to rest tonight, I'll put the whole shoot on the server in a few minutes, unedited, promise." Matt said while resuming his walk toward the elevator, "I'll call you tomorrow, now go home." he added as Ken didn't seem ready to leave him alone. His associate sighed and, shrugging, headed for the exit in the opposite direction. He knew that it was no use trying to push the redhead, he had an inertia strength no one could fight when he had decided not to let something happen. And seeing the shooting right now wasn't going to happen, obviously.

Matt leant against the wall of the elevator as it slid up to his floor in a muffled sound, muttering to himself: "The whole shoot, minus my own little treat..." He smiled to himself.

Depositing the material he didn't want to leave in his trunk on his already cluttered desk, Matt retrieved all USB drives and plugged both at once, launching the download before he went to fetch a beer in his fridge. Glancing at the clock, he decided for a pizza and told himself for the umpteenth time that he was probably ordering too often since he knew the number by heart.  
"Hi Tony, what's up?... Same old too here." He took a sip from his beer as the other chatted a bit on the other end of the line, "Yeah, worked late again, you know what it is... Mmh, I'll take a Big Veg with extra olives... yes that's all. No problem, I know it's your busy hour, forty minutes is fine. Bye."  
Yeah, probably too much pizza... he even called the guy by his first name by now.

The download took a while considering the amount of pictures he had taken, so Matt patiently smoked a cigarette at the window, finishing his beer, waiting for the familiar sound of a completed transfer.  
Soon the bleep resounded, and he left his spot for his desk chair.

As expected the first pictures were still unexploitable, but at least they were better than Ken's.  
The second material had done the job and Matt would be able to send what the client had requested the next day.  
For now, he wanted to sort out the photographies so he would only upload on the server what Ken expected to see, and nothing more.  
The rest would be Matt's personal fantasy stash.

As he was browsing through all the clichés, Matt lost track of time, totally addicted to the sight on his screen. Damn, this Mellow was tempting, and it was really a shame that the redhead didn't stand a chance at dating him, really. Matt would have gladly tasted some of that eye candy.  
The door bell ringing for his pizza delivery stirred him out of his reverie, making him start.  
"Damn, I almost forgot..." He mumbled, stirring as he stood up to open the door, "That's lucky I wasn't in the middle of jerking off." He chuckled, grabbing his wallet in his pocket.

It was only a question of postponing, since, after two more beers, the whole pizza and an after dinner cigarette, Matt was at it, picturing Mello's ass tightly squeezed in that shiny leather while he was in the shower.

Matt took care of that particular shoot over the week end, and some more work that had been waiting. Not much, which allowed him to relax and play some video games between two edition sessions.  
The next Monday, he decided to give that Mellow guy's agency a call, seeing if they could get a hold of the model.  
As expected he had to wait for the bitchy wisp to make an appearance in the agency's office for the secretary to get back to him.  
Matt wasn't in a hurry since if was for himself, not that he mentioned that to the secretary, but it didn't mean he wasn't impatient.

It didn't get any better the following days, since the model took his time to give sign of life. But when he did, it ended up just like the first time: he told the day, the time, and reminded Matt that he wanted cash.  
Matt had a shoot planned already, but there was no way he'd pass the opportunity of getting a hold of Mellow and unloaded the first appointment to Ken.

Matt arrived late at the studio, traffic making him lose some precious time. He hurried inside of the building, up to the room where he was sure Mello was already waiting. And indeed, the model was waiting. Seething, arms crossed and a foot resting against the wall as he leant on it.  
"If you think I'll stay over the alloted time, you're dreaming."  
"Hello to you too." Matt retorted, already annoyed, "It's nice to see you in such a good mood!"  
Mello huffed, pushing himself off the wall, "So, what do you expect from me?"  
"Basic respect maybe?" Matt regretted saying that as soon as the words passed his lips. The look the model gave him was so dark he thought that Mello was about to leave as he turned around. But the guy only reached for his bag, rummaging inside and stirring a bar of chocolate out of it.  
_Fucking diva on PMS_... Matt thought to himself, starting to set his gear in place.

Once he was done, Matt called out Mello's name so the model could place himself for the shooting.  
"Mellow, can you just stand right under the main light? I want the light right on your face. Try to keep your eyes open, I know it's pretty blinding but I won't be long."  
"Money." was all he got as a reply.  
Matt sighed, leaving his spot to retrieve the envelop full of of cash from his bag, handing it out to the model.  
"How much more for getting full sentences out of you, Mellow?" Matt chuckled, that was getting pretty ridiculous right now.  
"Mello. Not Mellow." the blond retorted in an angry tone, insisting on the last syllable.  
"Oh, okay, no problem. Mellow didn't suit you at all anyway." Matt slapped himself mentally for being sarcastic once again, but there was something about the guy that asked for bashing.  
Mello ignored the comment and did as told, keeping his eyes open despite the light focusing straight in them, looking right at the photographer. His expression would have been as blank as can be, if not for the nasty glow in his pupils. Matt was surprised that Mello even complied with the instructions, but he shuddered under the stare.

With the light so perfectly showing every trait of the model's face, Matt could shoot some very good close-ups. And those eyes, they just fitted so well with the scar... they were ice cold, unapologetic, and so much on the defensive, the scar could only emphasize that rawness emanating from the model, like some hurt wild animal surviving on his instincts only, distrustful, ready to bite.  
"Okay, that's good. You can move out of the main light now if you want."  
Mello stepped back, his hands in his pockets. He was still in his casual clothes, and that's when Matt realised that they were pretty worn out. Maybe some grunge fashion, with that Nirvana revival, that wouldn't be surprising.

"Well, actually, I'm done." Matt had what he wanted. Or at least he was unable to shoot further. He already had a good amount of bare chest pictures from the previous shooting, and right now, he was feeling slightly disturbed by staring at the model's face from so close and for so long through the lens. There was something appealing and at the same time so very wrong with the look in Mello's eyes that it made Matt too uneasy to keep going.  
He began to put his material away.  
"You've got twenty minutes left. I'm not giving any money back." Mello said, looking at the clock on the wall.  
"Well, then, I'm going to use my available time to the last second, I guess." Matt winked at the model, who seemed far from appreciating it and scowled.

Matt grabbed his bags and walked to the door, Mello looking at him with a puzzled stare.  
"There's a café next to the studio, come on." the redhead said, smiling in an attempt to make Mello understand that it was useless to be so defensive.  
"Like hell I'm going to a café with you. I said it was useless to ask me out, remember?"  
"Ah fuck! Can't you just stop being an ass about everything? I'm not asking you out, I'm offering you a drink. That's my twenty minutes, you're even paid for that, so what's the problem?"  
"You. You are the problem. I don't know what you're expecting from me, but you're not clear. You wanted more pictures for yourself? Great, you can even shoot your load over my face printed on glossy paper, suit yourself! But don't tell me you're here as a professional because I know you're not."  
"You've got the point there, I admit it. These pictures are for me, but it's not what you think. Now, I totally get it that I'm not your type and that you won't go out with me, but a cup of coffee won't kill you, and we can even have a conversation, if we're lucky enough not to jump at each other's throat in the next seconds."

Matt supposed that a semblance of armistice was on its way, as Mello followed him through the door, down the stairs and out of the building, to the café.  
He was feeling a bit guilty. It was true that he was fantasizing over Mello, and the latter wasn't dupe about it. And he had still some hope of making peace and maybe get what he wanted in the end, if he sailed carefully.  
But mainly, he wanted to know more, he was really curious about the guy. His behaviour was so extreme that there must be something about it. Or he was really an ass, but this, Matt would see it quickly.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Note:** I know I know, no update yesterday. I was at a museum (yes, such things happen, believe it or not XD). Funniest thing, the museum was actually a big old house like the one I described belonging to Mello in L'Amour Looks Something Like You. That made the visit even more interesting (and yes, I did imagine Matt and Mello there...)_  
_Next chapter is written too so there will be an update tomorrow :)  
I also have an unexpected visitor for a few days and have to take care of that so I'm quite busy._  
_I may not keep up completely with daily updates, but they will still be very often, don't worry :)_

* * *

Both young men were sat in front of a steamy cup of coffee, in an awkward silence that Matt tried to break, sure that the other would have no problem sitting there without a word.  
"I'll cut the crap with questions like how you started modelling and why and stuff, I'd like to ask you why you seem to be so much on edge all the time? I mean, okay, I wasn't really subtle and I can get why it got on your nerves, but it's just too much, you're kind of overreacting so... well, did you have a bad experience or something?"  
"That's none of your fucking business and I am as I fucking please."  
Mello looked at Matt straight in the eyes, before going back at staring by the window, looking pissed off once more.  
"Ooookaaay..." Matt sighed, "I don't stand a chance at starting a conversation with you I suppose."  
"As if that was going to actually shut you up." the model retorted sarcastically. But Matt noticed the shadow of a smirk before Mello suppressed it.  
"Oh fuck, I almost got a smile! There's progress!" the redhead exaggerated, sensing an opening.  
Mello chuckled, shaking his head: "You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?"  
"I'll refrain the urge to make a pun out of that, as tempting as it is, and will just bathe in the happiness of the moment. Houston, we made contact!" Matt exclaimed, smiling.  
"What a dork..." Mello seemed to relax a bit, going as far as laughing softly at the stupid joke.

"What are you going to do with those pictures, if they're not for a client but yourself?" the model asked suddenly, his face turning serious again.  
"I don't even know, to tell the truth. I just wanted them. Don't take it wrong, but there's something about you that I tried to catch on film, I can't really explain, just... ah... I don't know, and even then, it's probably not something you'd like to hear I suppose."  
'"Like what? You know, or you don't?"  
"I'm not sure, really, it's about that tough attitude you're shoving at my face, and apparently at everyone's face from what my associate told me, but I feel that there's something more to it. I know, that sounds pretty stupid to try to catch personality on film but well... I don't even know myself, I guess I'm doubting it now, maybe it was just a stupid thing to do. But well, you got cash so I imagine you don't really give a shit about my motivations."

Matt's initial thoughts were flying away with the realisation that he was at that very moment understanding that it wasn't just to get drool-worthy pictures that he wanted to make that private shooting, but that trying to get to know more of the guy through a lens because he was being shut off nastily everytime he tried to make conversation wasn't probably the smartest thing to say if he didn't want Mello to get angry again, and probably leave. Especially now that they were having said conversation.  
"You sound like a creepy pervert trying to make excuses." Mello wasn't smiling anymore, but apart from looking bored, he was still sitting there, Matt's words apparently not bringing him to want to leave.  
"Listen, I think you're stunning, I can't help it, and I'm certainly not the first to tell you. I'm doing my best not to make you feel uncomfortable, and if I offended you at any moment, I'm sorry. If that makes you feel better, I'll show you the pictures I took today, and if you have a problem with them, I make the promise to erase them."  
"After saving them elsewhere of course. Nice move but I'm not buying this." Mello leant back in his seat, once again staring straight into Matt's eyes.  
"I may be a creepy pervert, but I'm a honest creepy pervert. I give you my creepy perverted word that I won't save them anywhere else than on the USB card they're on now. I swear." Matt raised his hand in a scout-like manner, the other on his chest, grinning. He just couldn't help his cheeky nature.  
"Your heart is on your left." Mello simply responded, smirking for good, pointing out at Matt's palm laid flat on the right side of his chest.  
"You ruined all my effects." Matt replied, sighing exaggeratedly.

Mello glanced at the clock. There were only three minutes left before Matt's allotted time was over.  
Matt noticed him. Reaching for his bag, he stirred another envelop.  
"I didn't know if I'd have enough of an hour for the shoot so I prepared that just in case. It's yours for a second hour of your time, if you actually feel like making conversation for a little longer." the redhead pushed the envelop across the table, toward Mello, who looked at it with a surprised expression, before looking back at Matt with something akin to annoyance painted on his face.  
"Either you're a total freak, or you're so rich you can throw money out of the window like that."  
"Or I'm totally desperate, who knows? I'm not sure that the suspense is enough to keep you entertained for the next hour though." Matt's crooked smile and humour had the merit to bring a smile to the model's lips.  
"You know I'm going to take it, right? I mean, once the hour is over, we won't be friends, I won't be giving it back to you because of the awesome conversation we just had and I won't feel guilty for getting paid just to talk to you."  
"I know. But since you believe, just like me, that we can make this an awesome conversation, that would be a shame to stop now and miss such a life-brightening moment."  
Matt's faked seriousness made Mello raise an eyebrow, before shaking his head once again. He seemed to think for a few seconds, then stood up.  
"Sorry, I gotta go."  
"Wha... why? I thought you were up for an extra hour?" Matt was completely taken aback.  
"It's late, I really have to go." With this, Mello grabbed his bag and left, "Bye."  
"Bye..." Matt followed the model with his eyes as he crossed the café and passed the door, disappointed. Mello had been so close to accepting to stay, he didn't understand what made him change his mind so suddenly and leave so quickly.

Matt left the café in his turn, the last seconds with Mello feeling like a cold shower, when he was starting to think that they could actually engage in a real conversation. While driving, he replayed the whole thing in his mind, trying to decipher Mello's behaviour, expressions, wondering what he did for things to end so abruptly, but he couldn't find a single reason for things to have gone wrong in a split second.  
As a model, and even in a small agency, Mello probably made his fair share of money, so obviously that wasn't a motivation big enough for him to stay, but still, two hundred bucks, that wasn't a small amount by any means. But he had seemed ready to accept and then... whoosh, he was gone.  
Matt was pretty positive that no cell phone had rang for a text message urging the model to leave, and had made no move resembling some kind of cell phone check anyway, he didn't even have one apparently, since the agency needed him to be physically there to talk to him from what Matt knew.

He stopped at the Seven Eleven before going home to get some food that wasn't actually a pizza or a burger. He'd been feeding on junk food for the last days and it was too much even for him. He was already not the sportive kind, so getting love handles was around the corner very soon if he continued like that.  
Once home, he ate quickly, standing at his kitchen counter, before taking care of his latest shooting.  
It took longer than usual since he was doing it from the USB card itself, keeping his promise not to load the picture elsewhere.

Matt got a shock when he began browsing through the pictures. It was even more obvious than through his lens now that he could simply stare at those eyes: Mello was all attitude, ready to bite, cold and distant, but there was a fear in his eyes, something hidden behind all the rest, most certainly on purpose, pushing people away is a good way to be left alone when you've got something to be afraid of, or something to hide. Fear of what, that was a good question though.  
But without a role to play, just standing there face to the lights, not knowing the reason of the shooting, Mello did a less good job at hiding it than he had during previous shootings.  
_That_ was intriguing, even more than it was to Matt before. That's when he remembered that he was supposed to show the pictures to the model, and he intended to keep his promise, although he hoped that Mello wouldn't ask him to erase everything in the end. But the guy had left the café without even mentioning it further, despite Matt thinking that they would agree on meeting again somehow, for that purpose, before they parted.

The next day, Matt decided not to dwell too much on Mello's hasty departure, and called his agency.  
But he got news of the model only nine days later, when he had already abandoned all hope of hearing from him again. He hadn't called again during those days, actually thinking that if the guy didn't give any sign of life, he could keep the pictures so he wouldn't have lost everything. But still, he wanted to see him again. It was hopeless and Matt still got his hopes up.  
_Pathetic... _the redhead told himself. It wasn't like him to run after anyone.

To his surprise, it was Mello who made the call, not the secretary, and it took Matt a few seconds to get back to his senses when he heard the male voice in the receiver barely greeting him.  
"Oh, hello Mello, how are you?" he asked.  
Mello didn't even bother replying to the courtesy: "Can we meet tonight?"  
Matt noticed the fact that the model was actually asking, not imposing, but he knew better than bring it up.  
"Yep, what about 6pm at my apartment? And no, I'm not trying to trap you in my creepy perverted den, it's just that we don't need a studio to sit around my laptop, those places aren't free in case you forgot."  
"Don't worry, I know the best way to stop any creepy pervert to rape me. Address?"  
Matt gave directions, address and door code, in slight disbelief that the model had actually agreed to come to his place. Was hell about to freeze?

It took all the power of the new Star Trek video game to keep Matt occupied until the appointment with Mello a few hours later. He was way too nervous to his likings, even knowing that nothing would ever happen, the other making it clear that he didn't stand a chance at dating him. But still... Mello's presence in his own apartment, what would he think of the place? Was it clean enough? Shouldn't Matt be putting this or that away?

Matt started when the bell rang, having completely lost himself in the game after a while.  
He paused and went to open the door, letting the model in.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Note:** Next chapter is already written (I actually wrote 4, 5 and 6 yesterday) so expect an update tomorrow as well. I may keep up with my planned schedule, which means this fic could be completed this week and TSFMS updated this week end. Maybe.  
_  
_Reviews appreciated a lot on this one since as you may have noticed, I'm more of a first person POV writer so third person is less natural to me._  
_Also, tell me if, regardless of the plot and suspense, there are situations that are not easy enough to understand :)_

* * *

Mello strode in the living room, following Matt, scanning the place.  
"Nice place." he said, Matt turning around, wide eyed: "A compliment? Wow. That's Christmas already?" he laughed, "You can leave your stuff on the couch."  
"Nice place, but way too many computers and games. Is that better?" Mello replied with a smirk, leaving his jacket on the couch, and bag at the foot of it.  
"More like you at least. And now you see I'm not only a creepy pervert, but a geek too, talk about piling flaws huh?" Matt was happy to see that things weren't going awkward so far. "A drink?"  
"No thanks." Mello shoved his hands in his jeans' pockets, looking uncomfortable despite the broken ice.  
"Come on, take a beer at least, we've got quite a few pictures to go through."  
"I don't drink alcohol but a glass of water will do." Mello replied, "No, I'm not on a diet, before you come around."  
"Okay okay, I'll be right back." Matt raised his hands in defeat. But he was starting to notice a pattern with Mello. And going for a glass of water instead of refusing anything categorically was already a big step forward for the model.

Matt came back with a glass and a bottle of water, and a beer for himself, finding Mello looking at the television screen still showing the paused game.  
"Do you like games?" the redhead asked, although he was pretty sure Mello wasn't the type to play video games.  
Mello brought his attention back to Matt: "No. But I like Star Trek, and space stuff in general, aliens, things like that."  
"Probably because you're one." Matt replied, handing out the glass and bottle to Mello, who froze for a second before chuckling, "Seriously, don't take it bad but you act so weird most of the time that I don't even know how to handle it, I'm always feeling like anything could piss you off, even the most simple thing, it's hard to know, really."  
He put his beer on the coffee table before going back to his desk.  
"I know. I'm not asking you to understand me. But be careful, if you really piss me off, I could kill you with my laser ray." Mello mocked him, his eyes following the redhead.  
"Oh, is that your best way to prevent pervs to rape you?" Matt brought his laptop on the coffee table and sat, gesturing Mello to do the same beside him.  
"You don't want to know." Mello was serious again, blowing cold on Matt once more, to the great disappointment of the latter.  
"Maybe I want to know. Maybe I even want to understand you. But you're gonna tell me that you didn't come here for that so let's get started with those pics."  
Matt was starting to feel mad at the model for always stepping backward each time the conversation was taking a pleasant turn. Of course they weren't friends, but that didn't mean they had to keep so much distance.

Matt launched a slideshow of the pictures and leant back in the couch, sipping his beer in silence, at loss for anything more to say. Mello didn't seem to want to talk either, and they simply watched, the only sound being the laptop working. But after a while, the display froze, unable to get to the next picture, the laptop desperately rowing with a rattling noise.  
"I'd have thought a pro like you would have a better equipment." Mello huffed, crossing his legs.  
"Fuck you! Don't blame me for keeping my promise, I didn't even load the files on my hard drive although it would have been a _lot _ faster. My USB card isn't that fast, probably not even enough for a slideshow apparently." Matt was the one to be pissed off this time, and he was showing it.  
Mello gave him a strange look, before speaking again: "That's fine, you can keep them, I have to go anyway." And stood up from the couch.  
Matt breathed before he said anything he'd regret, but that guy was really getting on his nerves, and maybe he even did it on purpose, no one was that much of an ass naturally.

But more than anything, he wanted Mello to stay. He didn't want to give him a chance to run away again. Chasing the anger out of himself, he went for something closer to his nature.  
"I knew it, you're Superman!" Matt exclaimed suddenly. Mello, who was already about to pick up his jacket from the back of the couch, raised an eyebrow, waiting for Matt to go on, "Alien, always in a rush, secretive... that can only be that! Come on, admit it, I promise I won't tell anyone!"

Matt was starting to be really amused by Mello's expression. He had been feeling anger bug him at first, because Mello wasn't making things easy to say the least, but he couldn't resist his mind to make his mouth speak nonsense. That was his worst trait, he could never be serious for too long, not even when required.  
"Too bad you look more like Robin than Lois Lane." the model played along, and Matt felt like Mello would actually be nice to chat with if he let his barriers down once and for all.  
"Aw man, and to think I was dreaming of kissing you upside down... ah no, that's Spiderman."  
"Spiderman, Iron Man, whatever, I'm not kissing you, upside down or any other position."  
"My heart's broken! You're so cruel Modelman..."  
Mello laughed heartily this time, "What a dork..."  
"I know, I know, I'm good." Matt chuckled, patting the couch beside him, "Come on, you don't really have to go, just chill out, you see we can actually talk, even if I mostly say stupid things, but that's not the point."  
Mello smiled, sighing, and sat back.  
"Okay, but not for long, I have a shoot early tomorrow."  
"It's only half past six." Matt stated.  
"Your bad jokes are so heavy that it felt like hours." Mello tried to keep a poker face but he soon snorted, unable to refrain his laughter anymore, seeing Matt unable to decide if he should be offended or not.  
"You really have a dry sense of humour, but at least you have one, I was starting to despair there." Matt childishly poked his tongue out, laughing as well.

"Okay, if I want that slideshow to work, I have to load the pictures to my hard drive. You sure it's fine by you?" Matt knew it was a risk to ask Mello to confirm that it was, indeed, what he wanted, because the guy was apparently keen on changing his mind at the last minute. But then, if he confirmed, at least he wouldn't have an excuse to be an ass later about those pictures.  
"That's fine by me, but you don't have to launch the slideshow again, I've seen enough. Keep them if you want, they're not that good anyway so there's not much you can do with them."  
"Not good? Say I'm a shitty photographer while you're at it!" Matt chuckled, not taking it too seriously. He didn't want to feel attacked, even in the case Mello had intended to mean it this way. That wasn't important, he could keep the pictures.  
"I wasn't blaming you."  
"Oh, were you blaming yourself, you, Mister Perfect?"  
"You've mostly got my face there, that's not what people usually shoot of me. Don't bother lecturing me about my scar not being ugly and whatnot, I've lived with it until now and I don't care about it, but don't make me believe you wanted those pictures for the non-existent beauty of my scar because I perfectly know it wasn't the point. They asked you to shoot me again for the LGBT campaign specifically because my scar was in the way. I've seen the edited pictures they retained, there's no trace of my scar left on those. No one wants me to model for my scar. So whether it's because you have some weird fetish with scars or any other sick reason, that's okay, I got paid, I'm fine with it."  
"For fuck's sake! Once, just once, stop the drama! Seriously, Katy Perry wrote that song for you! You know, hot and cold whatever. You're such a fucking diva, and don't you dare standing up from that couch now and run away, because I'm not finished, and I expect you to have the basic respect to listen to me after the self pity show you just put on."

Matt exploded. He wasn't angry because of Mello's attacks, but because there was so much attitude in Mello's monologue that he wanted to shove it down his throat. The guy was so fake, every of his words and moves were calculated, and for the rare times when he let his guard down, there was a backslash ten times stronger.  
Mello was ready to get away, but sat back, looking straight at Matt, who knew perfectly well that it was an attempt at intimidating him. Not that it didn't work, but Matt still had some balls.  
"I like your scar, believe it or not. I don't think it's ugly, it's just part of you, and it fits. But I was more interested in your eyes, your expressions than anything else. And your pretty face, that's true, I'm all honest here. Now blame me for thinking you're the most handsome guy I've ever met. But mostly because it shows right there, when you're just being yourself, that there's a human hidden in there, behind the jackass you like to play most of the time." Matt pointed at the picture on the screen, of Mello simply standing in the light, looking at the lens.

Mello stayed silent a few seconds before retorting: "Who do you think you are? You know nothing about me and you're judging me! I've never asked you for anything as far as I know!"  
"Why do you do that?" Matt replied, his voice soft. He was tired of this, but mostly, he could see Mello falter. For an instant, before he replied, Matt could swear that Mello had been close to tears. He had gotten a hold of himself pretty quickly though.  
"I'm leaving."  
"Please. Stay."  
"What for?"  
"Because, I don't know, you could have diner with me, talk to me, listen to my stupid jokes, leave your sarcasm and shield at the door and I could actually see the person you hide, I'm pretty sure it's a nice one. But I know, it's not easy, you'd have to trust me at least a little. I don't know why you have your guard up so strongly, but if letting it down is possible, I mean, if I am not a threat to you, then why not? I may not be very subtle, but as you can see, I'm more of a geek than a creepy pervert, so I don't see what risk I can represent for you."  
"Why do YOU do that?" Mello was now standing with his jacket in his hand, "Why are you trying to convince me to stay? You're cute enough for me to guess that you don't need me to get laid so what the hell? Why do you want to know me? Why would I want to know you? We started on professional ground, and there's no reason for things to change. Just... stop trying."

Mello grabbed his bag, and reached for the door.  
"How much for you to stay?" Matt knew as soon as the words passed his lips that it was a mistake? A big one.  
"You don't have enough to buy my pride."  
As the model turned the knob, Matt grabbed his wrist: "I'm sorry. I mean it. That was a stupid thing to say. I'm not trying to buy you, I just don't know why it's so complicated and..."  
"It just is, it's not your fault, but it will be if you don't let it go."  
Matt released Mello's wrist.  
Mello smiled sadly: "No, not like that, I mean, just forget about knowing me. You don't need me, and you would probably even regret it. Just forget me, it's not you, it's me."  
"Ah fuck, I get the corniest breakup excuse and we're not even in a relationship, how sad is my life..." Matt couldn't help the joke, even in this situation, "Okay, I suppose there's nothing I can do..."  
He sighed, letting Mello leave for good.  
"Bye... and sorry." the model gave him a last look before heading for the elevator.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Note:** I'm sorry, it seems I post so much that you have a hard time following the pace... And it's not going to get better XD_  
_Most likely an update tomorrow as well :)_

* * *

Matt felt pretty dull the next days. The events with Mello had left him with a bitter taste, and on top of it, he didn't even know more about the reasons why the model was so cautious about letting anyone close. Or at least himself.  
It was almost driving him crazy when he started to dwell on it, especially at night when he was trying to find sleep. He kept on replaying everything from the first encounter in his head, and although he was aware that he had made mistakes, he was also very sure that it would never have happened that way with a normal person. Not that Mello was abnormal, that wasn't the right adjective to describe him. Weird for sure, overly reactive, jerk. But there had to be a reason, Matt was sure of that. You don't feel on the verge of tears just with a stranger hitting a bit too close to home with his words, except if you're having it really bad. It had been brief but Matt hadn't missed it.  
It wasn't about dating him or anything alike, Matt was curious, but the nasty kind of curious: it wasn't his business, the guy obviously didn't want to know him and vice versa, but there was something so secretive about him that Matt just had to know. But as the redhead's mother would say, when he was a little boy asking too many questions, _curiosity killed the Matt_.

But with time, weeks passing by, he finally could get the blond out of his system, sort of. As in, not thinking about what had happened at least during the day, but it would all come back at night still. It didn't fill his dreams or nightmares anymore, and Matt hoped that after some more time he'd forget completely.  
Even if, working in very related jobs, they were likely to meet again. But once Matt would be over his misplaced curiosity, that wouldn't be a problem to see Mello again, he supposed.

Matt was preparing for a shoot one evening, making sure that all his USB cards were empty, deciding for which material to take, stuffing bags, when Ken called him.  
"Hey Matt, tomorrow is cancelled. What the fuck happened with you and that model, the one you called a diva? He refused the shooting when he knew that we were doing it. That's bad man, really bad..."  
"I didn't even know he was one of the models we would be shooting tomorrow..." Matt was wondering how to explain his issues with Mello, but Ken cut him: "I didn't know either until now, the client just called me after the agency informed him that the guy had refused categorically once he had known we were the photographers, care to explain since you're the one of us both that shot him last? Did you date him in the end or something?"  
Ken was sounding really angry, and Matt could understand why: it was a very big client, one that usually didn't do business with small societies like theirs, he actually used to work with the one they were employed at before, and had wanted to hire them because Ken had been his photographer for a shoot while still at their previous job. And Matt was the one to fuck it up, to his opinion. Well, he wasn't wrong... But still, Matt didn't feel like taking full responsibility for the model being overly sensitive about this all.

Matt was right about the fact that something like that was bound to happen someday. He expected it to come more from the fact that Ken's cousin was at the head of the agency for which Mello worked, but no matter the way in which it happened, Matt knew that the eventuality could occur sooner or later. he just didn't expect Mello to go as far as refuse a shooting because of him.

"Listen, the guy has some issues with me, and I don't know why. Just say I won't be there, and he'll come."  
"But I need you. How am I supposed to do that alone, you know the planning, it's impossible to get this done alone."  
"I'll be there. He just doesn't need to know until he gets there." Matt had no other solution for the problem, but he could only hope that it wouldn't lead to a massive mess. All he was seeing right at that moment was the opportunity to meet Mello again. Not that the other would be predisposed to talk to him, but if Matt could at least get Mello to tolerate being in the same studio, that would be much. Then he could try to talk to him, maybe.

Matt was aware that he was probably deluding himself, too happy to have an occasion to meet Mello again, but what could he do? They had to do that shooting, and this client was a big fish they couldn't lose. Let's just hope that Mello would finally come. He was so hard headed that the possibility of him standing his ground and still refuse to come was high.  
Ken confirmed a while later that the model had finally changed his mind, being tricked into thinking that Matt wouldn't be there.

Matt and his associate had agreed that Ken would text Matt to let him know when the model would be in the studio so Matt could arrive after him, making sure he didn't run away as soon as he would open the door and see the redhead.  
Unfortunately, Mello had only been there for a few seconds, depositing his bag in a corner, that he left to go to the bathroom at the very moment when Ken sent the text to Matt, resulting in both men meeting in the corridor.

"Not as honest as you claimed to be, apparently." Mello spat, glaring at Matt as soon as he saw him climbing the last stair, his equipment on his shoulder.  
"Not as professional as you claimed to be, apparently." Matt retorted. Great, they were back to jumping at each other's throat...  
But Mello, after sending him a murderous look, left pretty quickly for the toilets. Too quickly for it to be natural.  
Matt heard the door of a booth slam open then closed, more likely from a hasty invasion, then the distinct noise of someone puking. Mello was paler than Matt remembered, now that he thought of it.

He waited, worried. Mello was alone in there so it could only be him. When he heard the toilet flush and the water run in a sink, he deemed it safe to enter the studio, Mello wasn't about to pass out or something, and Matt didn't want to embarrass him, Mello didn't need to know that he heard everything. There was no risk for the model to run away without his bag and since he didn't have it with him, it was in the studio, so Mello would have to retrieve it first, and Matt would run after him if needed.

But he didn't need to. Mello was seething, but he stayed.  
They were shooting for a perfume line. Mello was going to be the image of a masculine fragrance, which once again involved shirtless pictures, but there would be no editing this time since him and the feminine variation would be shot back to the camera, only half of them reflecting in a mirror, and of course it was going to be Mello's 'good half' being photographed. The way the client said it made Matt angry for some reason, as if Mello's scar was some useless wasted space.

Matt hated it when the client made himself too present during a shooting. It was normal to be giving some directions, but when the CEO himself was there, telling the photographers what to do, it could soon become really annoying. And they hadn't even started.

The studio was the biggest one and they were able, as initially planned, to set two shooting areas in place, to take care of both the masculine and feminine lines at the same time. The client had insisted to do so, so he could shout his orders at both Ken and Matt at the same time and get similar pictures with both models, then they'd do a shooting together that was meant for the promotion in magazines. Same space, double ad.

The poor female model was greeted by the CEO of the cosmetics company in the most obnoxious manner as she arrived twenty minutes late. Although he was for nothing in the man's fit of authority, Matt gave her an apologetic look as she jumped into the dress she was supposed to wear and hastily sat at the dressing table, the make-up artist getting at it under the scolding stare of the CEO, still babbling about respect and loss of time and whatnot. They were still setting the equipment in place so what was the problem with her being late anyway? With the way things were going, they weren't close to being ready, if that old fart kept on having a finger in every pie.

Ken was all smiles and ass-licking, which was good because Matt, usually very laid back, was starting to feel like a pressure cooker with the CEO turning around him, asking questions and giving opinions on how the work should be done. The redhead held on until he had everything in place, and, glancing at Ken and rolling his eyes, he exited the studio for a much needed smoke.

He went to the toilets before going back into the studio, and found himself hearing someone puke in the next booth as he was taking a piss.  
"Are you okay?" he asked, pretty sure it was Mello again.  
He didn't get an answer, but saw the blond exit the booth in the reflection of the mirror as he was washing his hands. The model didn't say a word, rinsed his mouth, washed his hands, not even looking at Matt.  
"I heard you a little earlier too. Are you sure you can make it today?"  
"Worried for your paycheck?" Mello's voice was a trial at being venomous, but it sounded more tired than anything.  
"No. For you. I know, I shouldn't, blah blah blah, but no matter what you think, I hear you puke twice and, sorry, but you look like shit, so I worry."  
"Well, thanks for the compliment. But yeah, you shouldn't worry. I can take care of myself." Mello exited the bathroom, Matt following him to the studio.  
It wasn't going to be easy today, since they had apparently reverted back to how things were right at the beginning. Yay.

But the highlight of the day was more than certainly when it was decided (by, of course, the CEO) that Ken would be shooting the girl and Matt Mello.  
Mello gave Matt such a glare that the redhead felt a hole being burnt in his head. As if he was responsible of that...  
For once, Matt was thankful that the old man was giving directions to the models, because he didn't have to do it himself, thus no need to talk to Mello directly.

Once they started, things rolled pretty well, several poses were tried, and after two hours, the CEO was happy with the shooting, or at least the first half of it. Fortunately, the make-up artist was able to make Mello look good, erasing all traces of dark circles under his eyes, and giving him a better looking complexion. They still had to take pictures of the two models together though, and the old guy wanted to go on and get everything done without a break, but Matt protested.  
It was obvious that Mello was totally worn out, and Matt did his best to convince the CEO to let everyone have lunch before getting at it again, fortunately everyone rooting for the idea, making it easier to win a break.

Mello was out as soon as he knew he was freed for the next hour. Matt, going out for a smoke, wasn't surprised to see him enter the bathroom again. A stomach bug, most likely. Or too much partying. Or drug withdrawal. Whatever.  
Killing his cigarette, Matt headed for the café next to the studio. Everyone had chosen the deli on the other side of the street, but Matt didn't feel like talking about work when he was taking a break from said work, and preferred to eat alone. Plus he wasn't a deli type of guy, classy food didn't appeal to him as much as chips and a greasy burger he knew was served at the café.

Leaning on the counter, he was placing his order before taking a seat when Mello came in, obviously annoyed as he saw Matt.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Note:** I'm busy as hell, tired as fuck, but still updating daily for now, bear with my typos and randomness XD_

* * *

Mello didn't back off, which surprised Matt, but he didn't look really friendly still.  
He strode to the counter, trying to ignore Matt, but that was without counting on the redhead's cheeky nature.  
"Hey Gringo", Matt said with the lamest Spanish accent he could muster, "There's not enough space for both of us in this city..." he stopped, laughing when he saw Mello unable to refrain a smirk.  
"Oh fuck, I knew I would regret it." the model said, shaking his head as he definitely couldn't keep his serious composure anymore.  
"More seriously, running away from the crowd?" Matt thought he could as well try to start a real conversation, since he had Mello smiling already.  
"Yep. Not far enough apparently though." Mello didn't seem to be sarcastic this time, but his smile slipped from his lips as he looked inside of his wallet. Emptying the coins in his palm, he started counting and glanced up at the board above the counter. His mouth twisted in annoyance before pushing most of his coins toward the waitress waiting for his order: "A coffee please."  
Matt, who just had finished paying for his own order at the second cashier, hesitated offering to pay for Mello's meal if he didn't have enough money on him.  
"You will probably tell me to fuck off but I'd feel rude if I didn't do it. I can give... lend you a bit of cash if you want, so you can buy something to eat." Matt corrected himself quickly.  
"I appreciate the effort." Mello smiled weakly at him, apparently understanding that Matt wasn't trying to belittle him, "but I'm not hungry."  
"Are you still feeling sick?" Matt asked out of politeness, but it was obvious that Mello wasn't well. Matt hadn't miss the fact that Mello was thinner than the previous time he had shot him. Mello was lean, now he was on the verge of being really skinny. He wouldn't say it out loud, but Matt had had to play with shadows and lightnings to hide too apparent ribs and hip bones.  
Mello glanced at him in a way that meant that he wasn't close to answer that, took his change from the cashier, and went to sit at a table.

Matt didn't want to push his luck too far and sat at a table as far as possible from Mello. He ate, glancing from time to time in the model's direction. Mello was facing the same direction as him, sipping his coffee, apparently lost in his thoughts, so he couldn't notice the redhead watching, and soon Matt found himself blatantly staring at Mello's profile. He only realised that he had been staring when Mello set his cup back on the table and started rubbing the bridge of his nose.  
Matt couldn't sit where he was anymore. He finished the last bite of his meal and stood up, crossing the café to sit face to Mello.  
"You know, I can try to get the shooting postponed if you're not feeling well enough."  
Mello froze, his hand still in the air at nose level, his eyes still looking in the same direction as they had been before Matt arrived, and the redhead really thought that Mello was going to yell at him to go fuck himself. But the model closed his eyes and sighed.  
"I can't decide if you're the kindest person I've ever met, or the most annoying."  
"Nah, nothing like that, I'm a masochist, I love your nasty comments and the impression that you could punch me anytime."  
Mello chuckled, finally looking at Matt, "Not that I don't want to..."  
"Still, you look awful, have you seen a doctor at least?"  
"Yes. I'll be okay."  
"Fine, I don't want to insist. It shouldn't be as long as this morning anyway. I just wish the old fathead would stop bossing me around, we'd get everything done a lot faster."  
Mello smirked, looking back at his empty cup.  
"Are you sure you can make it with just a coffee in your stomach?" Matt asked, but the way Mello looked at him through his bangs told him he'd better put an end to the conversation. Mello hadn't bitten yet, and it was useless to push it. He stood up, slipping a cigarette between his lips: "See you later at the studio.", and left the café.

Mello walked past Matt, as the latter was smoking a last cigarette in front of the building. He gave him a small smile.  
The redhead was slightly taken aback, once again surprised by the model's attitude. But he didn't want to get his hopes up this time, Mello would probably get back to his cold self more sooner than later.

"Mello, honey, I can't do miracles if you keep sweating like that." the make-up artist whined, dabbing the model's forehead and temples with a tissue before swiping some more foundation on his face. Matt didn't miss the murderous look Mello gave the guy when he called him 'honey', and couldn't help sniggering, earning himself the same expression from the blonde.  
It was the only funny part though, because Mello, although shirtless in a studio that was far from being overheated despite the many lights, needed constant touch ups, and the CEO was going insanely annoying, driving everyone crazy.  
"Listen, I know that she's pretty, but act professional for God's sake!" the old fart shouted as Mello came back next to the female model.  
The make-up artist laughed heartily, folded in two: "Oh my! I'm sorry but if this one's straight then I'm the queen of England!"  
Matt thought that Mello was going to kill the make-up artist right then and there, but he simply rolled his eyes and sighed. The redhead realised that Mello was way too tired to give a fuck, and that he wasn't actually sweating because he was too warm, but because he was even worse than previously.

"Pause!" Matt shouted, leaving the spot behind his camera. He couldn't leave things as they were, they were unable to conduct the shooting with a model that looked like a mess, and he was really worried for Mello. If the guy couldn't even retort to such comments, then there was something absolutely wrong.  
"Since when do you decide?" The CEO replied, furious, already walking on Matt.  
"Since you obviously have no idea how yo treat people with respect." Matt spat, glaring at him with defiance.  
He grabbed his cigarettes and Mello's jacket, handing it out to the model: "Come on, let's get something to drink."  
Mello didn't even protest and followed him out of the studio.

"I'm sorry." Mello whispered, eyes looking at his feet, leant on the side of the vending machine in the lobby of the building.  
"You can't help being sick, that's just bad timing I suppose." Matt replied, his unlit cigarette still dangling between his lips, "I'll be right back." he gestured to the outside before walking away.  
But Mello followed him, to his surprise.  
"Don't catch a cold on top of everything." Matt pointed at Mello's bare chest under the jacket. The model didn't even protest against the remark and tried to engage the zipper with one hand, holding his coffee with the other, but Matt zipped it for him before Mello could even say anything, looking at the other dumbfoundedly.  
"Don't bite me, it's no big deal." Matt winked at him, Mello staring at him for a few seconds before looking at his feet again, taking gulps of his coffee from time to time.

"Better?"  
"Sort of."  
Both men climbed the stairs and went back to the studio.  
The shooting finally came to an end less than one hour later, and Mello left for the bathroom, this time to wash all the make up off his face. When he came back in the studio, Matt and Ken were still putting their gear away, the CEO chatting with the female model, the make-up artist and some other members of the staff that were already ready to go.  
"Mello, sweetheart, will you join us? We're all taking a drink at the Cameo once the photographers are done with their stuff." the make-up artist asked him as Mello walked past him.  
"No thanks." the model replied, picking up his jacket and bag.  
"Come ooon darling, for me." the other simpered, "That'll be fun!"  
Mello huffed, obviously irritated, sliding the handle of his bag over his shoulder, and, turning to Matt, waved him goodbye before closing the studio's door behind him.

"I don't know what's going on between you two but it seems your charms worked once more." Ken teased Matt, who was still looking wide eyed at the door.  
Matt didn't know how to take that. Mello had actually been friendly, to him only, before leaving, when he was the one to bring Mello to refuse the shooting at first. Was the guy schizophrenic?

Matt hadn't agreed to go with the others, first because he didn't like anyone to assume that he would be following the group when no one had asked him anything beforehand, and because he had had his share of the fathead for the day. He was lighting a cigarette in front of the building, stopping for a few seconds as the others reached for their cars to leave, and suddenly spotted Mello leant on the wall of the building a few feet away.  
"I'm not going, you can still join them if you like." Matt said around his cigarette, gesturing to the group.  
"You weren't the reason why I refused. Plus I knew you wouldn't go either." Mello replied, pushing himself from the wall and coming closer to Matt nonchalantly.  
But the way he looked down, looking uncomfortable, told Matt that, even if Mello would never say it, he had been waiting for him.

"How do you feel?" Matt asked, blowing smoke on the side. Some colour seemed to be back on Mello's face at least.  
"Better." the model replied, giving Matt an annoyed look before staring back at the ground.  
"Please, please, please, don't get angry or anything for what I'm going to say, okay? But... you look slightly better, so maybe you should eat something. I was thinking of taking something at the café to chill out because the dickhead really got the best of me, care to join?"  
"I don't know... I..." Mello began.  
"Ah! That's not a straight no, so I'll take that as a yes!" Matt chuckled, making Mello smile, "Come on, I'm treating!"  
"No! No way... I have to go." Mello suddenly stiffened, his usual cold expression creeping back to his face.  
"Oh please, don't be like that Mello. What's the use of making loads of money if I can't spend it on a damsel in distress!"  
Mello gave him a disbelieving look, "Call me honey or sweetheart and I'm ripping your balls off." the model smirked though after a split second.  
"I wouldn't dare, _darling_." Matt grinned. He wanted to win this round, and had the feeling that Mello was about to give in.  
"Say goodbye to your balls, _ginger_." Mello mockingly scowled, leaning over Matt, who stepped back, laughing.  
"Goodbye Kermit, goodbye Fozzie, I will miss you guys!"  
Mello burst into laughters: "Don't tell me you named your balls!?"  
"I even named my dick, if you want to know."  
"Errr... no, I don't think I do actually." Mello chuckled, shaking his head, "You're such a dork."  
"I know I know... but my dick's name is Gonzo The Great, because I'm sure you were dying to know even if you said otherwise." Matt tried to keep a serious face but failed miserably, barking like a hyena at the sight of Mello's horrified face.  
"I hope it's not related to its shape, and the nose, you know what I mean..." the model made a disgusted grimace, his lips turning upwards against his will.  
"No! Aw you're so mean to my poor Gonzo!" Matt put both his palms over his crotch, hiding it with mock indignation, "Don't listen to him." he whispered, addressing to his nether regions.  
Mello facepalmed, shaking his head once again.  
"Come on, I'm thirsty." the redhead took his bags from the ground, "I'll just leave this in my trunk first."

Mello followed Matt to his car, then in the café. Matt had thought that the model would find an excuse to run away again, but he was starting to think that Mello wouldn't be that difficult to be around if he managed to neutralise the fits of misplaced pride he had with humour. That seemed to work well so far.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Note:** Aaaand, here comes the answers (one of them, but the main one) for Mello's behaviour._

_It isn't half as dark as I intended this fic to be, even if I respected what I had planned for Mello's reasons, but I realised that the details I was about to use here were very similar to what will be written in Stay Tuned and I don't want to plagarize myself XD  
__So I decided to just let Negative flow out of my mind without any kind of preparation. I ended up with something I'm satisfied with anyway. It's still a bit fluffy I suppose, seems I can't help it..._

_Next chapter will have the rest of Mello's reasons, and will also be the end of this fic :)_

* * *

Matt didn't raise the topic at first, but noticed that Mello, by the way he was eating, was actually starving, and wondered, while sipping his beer, if he just didn't have money with him, or at all. Anyway, he was glad to see him fill his stomach and his cheeks return to a healthy colour, sort of. He still looked pretty tired though.  
What worried him was that if, indeed, Mello was short on cash, then he would be until he got his next paycheck, and since he would have to get it at his agency (as far as he knew, that's how it seemed to be from what he had seen with other shootings), and that it was Friday, there was a possibility that he'd have to wait at best until Monday, or even longer depending on how things worked there. Fuck, he had to ask. He wouldn't be able to sleep soundly if he didn't.

"Mello... don't take it the wrong way, I just mean to help..." Matt started, cut by Mello's soft laughter, "What?"  
"Don't get mad, don't take it the wrong way... each of your sentences begin like that." Mello explained, "Stop with this, I'm past getting mad at you, you know, I've made my decision."  
"Your decision?" Matt looked at the other, puzzled.  
"If you were the kindest person I've ever met, or the most annoying." Mello had a small smile on his lips, peeping through his bangs and gauging Matt's reaction.  
"And I'm annoyingly kind, I know." Matt stated dramatically, giggling.  
"And I feel like a piece of shit for taking advantage of your kindness, to be honest." Mello's expression became serious again.  
"You're not. What kind of person would I be if I didn't try to help? I mean, you really had it bad today..."  
"Just something I ate that made me sick."  
"Mmh... don't... ah fuck. Listen, I'm not stupid, I can see that it's not something recent, I saw you shirtless, you know what I mean. It's not just something you ate, you lost like what? ten pounds? And you look like shit. I don't want to make you uncomfortable but I'm worried, you could lose your job, and you seem stone broke on top of that. I really want to help, even if I can understand that you feel bad letting me."

Mello stayed silent for a few seconds before standing up, frowning. "I gotta go. Thank you for everything." He grabbed his bag and left quickly, but this time, Matt ran after him, catching up with the model a little further up the street.  
"Mello stop. How do you want me to believe that it's not important if you try to avoid the topic like that? If I can't help, then I'll leave you alone, but I'm sure that there's something I can do. Don't close yourself up. Your pride's not worth it."  
"What do you want from me? Why do you even care?" Mello's voice was low, husky.  
"I don't want anything from you, I want to give you something. Whatever you need. It doesn't have to hurt your pride, it's only help, not commitment."  
Mello was still turning his back to Matt, his bag fallen on the pavement, his fist balling at his sides.  
Seeing that the other wasn't saying a word, Matt tried to convince him further. He sensed that he was close to get Mello to open up: the model was still standing here, although silent. He wasn't running away.  
"I can get on the annoying side if required, I can even resort to my lamest jokes, and that's a serious threat." Matt tried to lighten the atmosphere, but suddenly Mello turned around and threw himself against Matt's chest, sobbing. His forehead fell on the redhead's shoulder, who instinctively wrapped his arms around his neck, trying to comfort him. Mello's arms found Matt's waist, clutching at him, as he cried hard.  
"Hey, shhh, it'll be fine, I promise..." Matt tried to soothe him, touched by the other's sudden breakdown. Mello was shaking under the heavy sobs escaping him, and Matt could feel that it wasn't only exhaustion or sadness, or even whatever problems Mello had that had him crumbling down, but anger. The way Mello gripped his shirt nervously, the tension in his whole body that he could feel against his, Mello was raging inside...

The model pushed Matt away, stepping back at the same time. He wasn't ready to give in apparently, Matt told himself, tired of this come and go game. Why couldn't Mello just accept to be helped?  
Mello's face was wet with tears, his eyes half lidded as he looked straight at the redhead, full of anger. With a hand, he gestured at Matt, who was already walking to him, to stop, shaking his head, walking backwards slowly before turning around, picking up his bag and leaving.  
Matt was disturbed by the way Mello's rage radiated from him, and the way he looked, awfully weak, only his pride keeping all the pieces together. But for how long?

But if he didn't want help, what could Matt do?  
He was about to simply leave and go home. There was nothing more he could do at that point. Mello was too full of himself to take any hand held out to him. He was probably just a druggie in withdrawal or some eating disorder nutcase anyway, so why bother. Matt was no doctor.

But he was human, and a very caring one at that.  
Turning on his heels, he wanted to catch up with Mello. Running up the street, he couldn't spot him though, Mello had already disappeared. Abandoning the idea of walking further, since Mello couldn't have put so much distance between them in so little time, Matt went back on his tracks.  
He froze when he saw Mello standing next to his car. The model had probably turned in the small alley close to the café without Matt seeing him, and had now come back.  
Matt came closer, and realised that Mello was still crying, standing there, hunched, and looking at him through his bangs. He got a shock when he saw the expression in them: they were pleading.

Matt's heart wrung. It was probably taking so much from Mello to finally accept help, to let his pride aside, and even if he wasn't saying it, he was ashamed, Matt could tell by the look in his eyes.  
Mello wept in his arms for a long time, and Matt could feel that he was slowly shifting his weight on him, telling him that Mello was properly falling to pieces, exhausted to his last limits. The fury was dying down, and had left nothing, burning the man to ashes. But Matt wouldn't be one to swipe them away with the tip of the foot.

Still with an arm around Mello's shoulders, he withdrew to walk at his side.  
"Come on, I'll drive you home, and we can talk if you want."  
Matt pulled Mello to his car, making him sit inside before reaching the driver's seat.  
"Where do you live?" he asked, starting the vehicle.  
Mello didn't reply, his slumped head raising, and he looked straight in front of him.  
"Mello?"  
"I... don't have a place to live right now." Mello grimaced, very uneasy to admit it.  
"Okay."  
Matt pulled out of his parking place, and drove away.

"Come in." Matt invited Mello in as he pushed the door of his apartment open.  
Mello entered, still silent.  
"Still no alcohol?"  
"No..." Mello shook his head, barely looking at Matt, who went to fetch two cokes in his refrigerator. If Mello's stomach was disturbed, this would help.  
"Sit down, put yourself at ease." Matt gestured to the couch, walking to it and depositing the drinks on the coffee table before sitting himself.  
Mello sat at the other end of the couch, and Matt could tell how uncomfortable the situation made him.  
"Do you want to talk about it?" Matt asked, "I'm not forcing you, I'll understand if you don't want to. Just know that you can stay here as long as you like. I can only offer you the couch to sleep on though."  
"I've had it worse..." Mello chuckled sadly, "I'm not sure I want to talk about it, I... it's not really easy."  
"Don't worry, it's okay if you don't."  
"Thank you. For everything I mean... I feel so lame, I hate that." Mello brought his hands to his face, joining his palms in front of his mouth, his elbows resting on his thighs.  
"Hey, shit happens."  
"Yeah, I suppose..."

They sipped their drinks in silence, but the tension was still palpable, and Matt tried to make a diversion. They didn't have to talk about Mello's problems, and since he would apparently be spending the night here, Matt didn't have to worry anymore about him running away, he seemed to have accepted to be helped once and for all. Matt just wanted him to feel better about himself now, since Mello had seen his pride mistreated pretty badly, and it seemed to be an important issue for him.

"Okay, so now that my creepy pervert's plan has worked, I wonder what I'm gonna do to you..." Matt took a crooked expression, finally bringing a smile to Mello's lips.  
"You're such a dork, but I've said it a lot already."  
"Yep. I'm gonna start believing you." Matt winked at Mello, laughing.  
"Are you always like that?"  
"I suppose. It's not as if I was forcing myself you know, I'm naturally stupid." Matt smirked.  
"I didn't mean it like that." Mello laughed softly, looking at Matt this time.  
"Oh. Freak? Nutcase? Nerd?"  
"I'd go for irresistible." Mello replied, Matt almost choking on his drink.  
"Woah! Level up!" he coughed all while bursting out.  
"Don't get carried away, I'm still trying to resist though." Mello backed off, his smile fading.  
"I'll try harder then."  
"Please don't. It would be a very bad idea." Mello sighed, crossing his legs and slightly hunching, giving Matt the impression that he was protecting himself, like in his personal bubble or something.  
"I don't care that you're homeless, if that's what's bothering you."  
"I wish it was only that."  
"Still don't wanna talk about it I suppose?"  
"No. Just... stop being so cute. That would help a lot."  
"Aw now I'm cute. That's getting better!"  
"I shouldn't have come."  
"You won't be running away again, will you?"  
"I want to, but... I don't know, if I leave, it would be like showing no respect for what you've done for me so far, but if I stay... I feel like taking advantage of you and..."  
"And what?"  
"I shouldn't even be here, I mean, I was already falling for you, and this is only making things worse and... you will probably think that I'm trying to get something from you now. Like... giving you something in exchange for your help."  
"Shut up Mello."  
"Matt I..."  
"Shut up. And come here."

Mello hesitated. Matt could see his mind battling, and he did understand why it was so hard for Mello to just let things go their way. It wasn't just pride, but probably a long time of being on his own and never counting on anyone but himself. Homeless, broke, he didn't care for Mello's situation, he was just falling as well, or had fallen long ago already, most certainly. But now, with this new perspective, he wasn't trying to refrain it anymore, Mello had let the jerk outside, and was only his true self now. And Matt liked that person, a lot. Aside from being impossibly sexy, Mello had that fire, and that fragility at the same time, the kind that can only cohabit in the strongest persons, and Matt was aware that if Mello had broken down a little earlier, it was only because he was dead beat, and started to trust him. There's just so much a person can take...

Mello didn't seem to succeed in making his mind up, so Matt pulled him in his arms.  
"You can back away anytime you want, but give it a chance at least. You want this, so just let it happen. Stop overthinking it. Whatever it is that's going on in your life, you're not alone anymore... I know we're not friends yet and I don't know where this is leading, but if you let me, I'll be here for you. As a friend, a boyfriend, you decide. But for now, just let me hug you. I promise, that will feel good. You might even like it."  
Mello was staring at Matt, his eyes tired. The kind of 'exhausted-by-life' tiredness. He wanted to give in, but Matt knew something was still holding him back. But he gave in, finally.  
"You never stop."  
"No. Forever a dork." Matt chuckled, Mello snaking his arm around his waist, his head falling in the crook of his neck as Matt wrapped his arms around Mello's shoulders.

They stayed like this for a while, Matt playing with Mello's hair, his cheek resting on the top of his head, feeling the latter snuggle closer. Following the warm feeling spreading inside of him as he felt Mello shift slightly to look at him, he leant, pulling the blond's chin upward and tried to kiss him. But Mello stopped him as their lips were almost touching, his finger resting on Matt's own chin.  
"It's a bad idea." he murmured.  
"Why?"  
"You don't want someone like me. Not like that."  
"Tell me what's so wrong with you that I could possibly not want you..." Matt insisted.  
Mello's expression darkened, and he averted his eyes.  
"I've got AIDS."


	9. Chapter 9

_**Note:** This last chapter was a nightmare to write. It turned out like I wanted except that I feel that I'm using the same words too many times. But as much as I tried, there wasn't a synonym I could use most of the time because it was the exact meaning I wanted. I don't have the courage to re-read it so I'm posting it right away. I rarely take so much time to write a chapter but well... it can't always flow like a river XD (and it's a lot longer than usual too)._

_Anyway, it's still the end, as planned, and now I'm back to Too Sexy For My Shirt :)  
Expect an update on Thursday._

* * *

Matt stopped cold, his eyes searching for Mello's as if to find confirmation in them. Or in that case, denial.  
"Really?" he asked, his voice not as steady as he wanted it to be.  
Mello nodded, still looking down.  
"Fuck." Matt muttered, his hand slipping over his face as he sat straighter, his arm falling off Mello's shoulders.  
Mello withdrew slightly, bringing his hands in his lap, "I think I'll go now." he whispered.  
"Can you just... wait?" Matt grabbed his cigarettes and lighter, both escaping his hands, the lighter bouncing on the tiles out of reach. He got up from the couch to pick it up, lit his cigarette, and stood there, at a short distance from Mello who was still sitting, looking at Matt expectantly, while the latter was taking long drags, barely waiting between each of them.

"Fuck." Matt repeated, looking at the ceiling as he lit a second cigarette.  
"I"ll go." Mello grabbed his jacket and bag, and started walking to the door.  
"No you won't. Just... wait."  
Mello turned around, looking at Matt with a puzzled stare. Matt gestured at him to leave his bag and jacket where they previously were while smoking still, and for once, Mello was the one to be intimidated. So he obeyed, and stood close to the back of the couch, his arms fallen to his sides, his eyes never leaving Matt's cigarette.  
The redhead felt the seconds tick inside of him, knowing that he was putting Mello through an agonizing wait, buying himself time that dwindled with every drag.  
"Fuck." Matt said for the third time, looking down.

He crushed his cigarette, knowing full well that he wouldn't go for a third one.  
"I'm good." he stated in a neutral tone, sitting back on the couch, Mello in total lack of understanding, unable to move from where he was. Matt handed out his hand to him, "Come here." His voice was soft, and Mello sat back. He was at the other end of the couch again, looking scared.  
"How long?" Matt asked, his eyes staring at the wall face to him, avoiding Mello's.  
"Two years."  
"That you know, or that you have it?"  
"Both."  
"How did it happen?"  
Matt was still too shocked to gauge if his questions were too intimate or straight forward, but Mello replied nonetheless.  
"I had sex with a guy that had it. End of story."  
"Fuck."

Matt stopped with the questions for a long moment, but Mello didn't try to leave this time. The only reason why Matt didn't want to look in his eyes for now was because, when Mello had sat back, along with fear, Matt had seen a slight glimpse of hope, and he wasn't sure yet if he was about to crush it or not. AIDS. Fuck.

"I thought that maybe it was related to your scar, transfusion or something like that..." Matt murmured, more to himself than anything.  
"No, nothing like that. I got the scar after that."  
"How?"  
"My father."  
Matt finally looked at Mello, wondering how on Earth a father could be responsible of such a scar. It was Mello this time who was averting his eyes.  
"He wasn't so happy to know."  
"You mean he did that to you?"  
"Yeah... but that's the past, no need to feel sorry for me."  
"What did he do?"  
"He... threw acid at me. He's a blacksmith and... he was working on cleaning steel when I told him and... he threw his bottle of hydrochloric acid at me."  
"Damn..." was all Matt could say. Rejection had harmed Mello physically along with the moral pain, and the redhead could only imagine how much rejection had made of Mello what he was, before he trusted him.  
"But you were a model before that?"  
"No, ironically, I started after that. I needed an income when I left the hospital, there was no way I'd go back to my father's so I did the crappiest jobs until I met a guy from the agency I'm in. I'm not proud of what I did but he got me an interview with the director in exchange of a... little transaction. The interview went fine, I got hired despite my scar, even if the number of shootings I did are very limited because of that..."  
"What transaction?"  
"I served as a distributor to the models once or twice. Meth."  
"Oh. Do you do drugs yourself?"  
"I can barely afford to eat so, no... maybe I would have, you know... it's not always easy... but no, at least being stone broke prevented me from becoming a meth head." Mello chuckled sadly.  
"Do you still provide meth?"  
"No."

Matt kept on asking question, his sentences laconic. Informations, as well as the initial shock, were slowly sinking in, and he was trying to get a picture of the whole thing. There wasn't anything he could find that was blameful to his eyes. Mello had done everything out of necessity. But AIDS. Fuck.

One thing he had to admit though, to Mello's benefit, was that during two years, he had stood alone, with his health diminished, with rejection, physical harm, and although in a place and position where going down in flames was common practice, he hadn't. In the middle of L.A., working as a model in an agency where, like in most of them, drugs circulated, providing them himself even, and obviously surrounded by not-so-recommendable people, he had kept as much of his integrity as humanly possible.

"The money, it's because of your treatment?"  
"Yes... I don't have an insurance and everything I earn goes into it mostly."  
"The sickness?"  
"They changed my protocol, I'm still in an early stage and they're adjusting things. The previous one was ineffective, but the new one is giving me a hard time."  
"I see... You started it not long after our second shooting, right?"  
"Yeah... actually I only accepted because I needed the money, I would never have done it otherwise... I felt like prostituting myself, I thought you were such a freak..."  
"I can understand that... I never meant to make you feel bad but... I had this strange attraction for you, like, you were so beautiful I _needed_ more... and then there was all your attitude, it just didn't fit. I was so curious about you that it made me do things that probably seemed misplaced to you..."

Matt finally looked at Mello. "Why did you accept to visit me then, when I wanted to show you the pictures? If you thought I was a freak I mean."  
"I... You make everything look simple, as if nothing mattered, you're never serious... Whatever I said, you always had something witty to reply, and when I pushed you too far, you would fight back. You never rejected me, you were pretty much doing the opposite actually, like... sticking to me, but you rejected what I had become, and at some point I realised that if you could do that, then I didn't have the right to charge you with motives that you didn't have. And... I don't know... it just... made me fall for you, the humour, the perseverance, the kindness, and, let's face it, your hotness." Mello smiled, glancing at Matt through his bangs, "But I still had my defences strong and it took me long to let them go."  
"Yeah, I've seen that..."

Matt shifted to face Mello on the couch.  
"Okay, questioning over." he laughed softly, "I'm glad that you didn't leave. I can't say I'm not shocked, but I'll get over it."  
He lit a cigarette, silence falling back between the two again after that long ping pong of questions and answers.  
Only the light sizzling of the red tip burning could be heard, until Matt crushed the cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table.

"I suppose that it means we'll have to use some rubber when we play with our lightsabers." Matt said in a serious tone. But he couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of Mello's expression. The model's face was a mix of questioning, happy and crying at the same time, and none of them managed to take over.  
He finally started laughing through his tears, coming closer, Matt opening his arms to him.  
"Come here princess Leïa."  
Mello buried his face in Matt's chest: "I'm not making buns with my hair."  
"Aw, you'd look so pretty." the redhead hugged him.  
"Shut up, dork Vader."  
Both burst out in giggles, snuggling in the couch.

Mello fell asleep at some point, totally worn out, lulled by the comfortable silence. When Matt noticed, he stood up very carefully, took him his shoes off and installed him with a pillow and a blanket, before going to bed himself.

The next day, Mello was still asleep when Matt crossed the living room. He even crouched next to the couch to make sure Mello was still breathing, worried.  
Seeing that the model wasn't close to waking up, Matt got ready and left, leaving a note to Mello on the coffee table. He wouldn't be long, and was slightly worried that Mello would run away while he was gone, but last night's events meant so much to him, he couldn't believe that Mello would simply go and leave everything behind.  
Closing the door as silently as he could, he went out.

He grabbed French pastries on his way home, and less than an hour later, he was home again. His heart jumped in his chest when he didn't see Mello anywhere, but the sound of someone puking in the bathroom told him that he hadn't left.  
"Mello, are you okay? Do you need something?" he called out through the bathroom's door.  
"I'm fine, no worries." Mello's voice was weak but reassuring. Matt heard the water run in the sink, and Mello came out of the room a few seconds later, pale.  
"Hey." Matt smiled at him, "Can you eat?"  
"Yeah... actually the pills do that to me when my stomach is empty."  
"Fuck... we went to sleep without having dinner yesterday... I'm sorry, that's my fault..."  
"That's not... if anything, I should thank you..."

Matt gently pushed Mello in direction of the kitchen.  
"I have coffee, tea, cocoa..." he said, rummaging in his cupboards, "And I think that's it."  
"Cocoa please."  
"Coming right up!" Matt exclaimed, winking at Mello as he grabbed the carton of milk in the fridge.  
Mello chuckled, climbing on a stool.

A little later, Mello's head poked out of the bathroom, his hair wet.  
"Matt? Can I use your washing machine?"  
"Yep. Do you need clothes? I can lend you some."  
"That's fine, but I'm on my last clean ones."  
"Okay. But you don't have to ask you know, you live here now, or... well... I mean, if you want to..." Matt realised that he was assuming things without asking Mello.  
Mello disappeared in the bathroom again. The washing machine's noise resounded, and the model finally joined Matt in the living room. He looked annoyed, as he sat on the couch.  
"I... know I don't really have a choice, and that's what's pissing me off. It's not against you, don't misunderstand me but you're doing so much for me, and if I don't accept your help, my life's gonna be a mess again, and I don't even know how long I can go on like that... I mean, I wanted to do things with my life, I never wanted it to be like that..."  
"Just say yes then. So you can sort things out, and do what you wanted to do with your life."  
"It's not so easy..."  
"You're the one that makes it difficult. You can't even accept living here with me, I wonder how I'm gonna make you accept this." Matt leant over the arm of the couch, stirring a bunch of papers from his bag and handing them out to Mello.  
"Marriage?!" Mello's eyes went as wide as plates, "Are you fucking crazy?"  
"No, just practical. You don't have an insurance, but I do."

Mello looked at the papers, then at Matt again, tears starting to roll on his face.  
"You would really do that? I mean, you barely know me, and-"  
"And nothing. It's the only way to do this. I can still do that the romantic way, it's not as if I didn't care for you, and I can even go as far as saying I'm falling in love with you, but if you can't make it with your wages, I'm most likely to be unable to take care of both of us with mines, as good as they are, so well, I could try to pay for your treatment, I have no objection doing that, but I want to be sure that I can also provide you everything else, just in case... it gets worse."  
"Fuck..."  
"Hey, that's my line." Matt teasing Mello, smiling.

Mello was really crying now, nestled in Matt's arms.  
"You're totally crazy." he muttered, his voice muffled.  
"I really like practical better." Matt chuckled, kissing the top of his head.  
Mello straightened to look at Matt: "But there's something wrong with that."  
"Oh? Don't tell me you want me to propose on a knee, because that's not romantic, that's just so cliché." the redhead said in a dramatic tone.  
"No, but ask me at least." Mello dried his eyes with the back of his hand, smiling again.  
"Oookay. Mello, will you marry a dork like me?"  
"Yes." The model burst out laughing, leaning to kiss Matt, but stopping when he realised what he was doing, "But... is it only for the practical aspect? I mean... I know my condition is a big deal and there are a lot of restrictions..."  
"Mello, of course it's only practical, in the sense that I wouldn't have asked you to marry me if you didn't have AIDS, I could as well live with you, and we could have a relationship without being married because, let's face it, it's too soon, but things are what they are and that's the best thing to do now. But practical doesn't mean I have no feelings for you though, or that I don't want you, if that's what you're worrying about. I'm aware that it won't be simple, that I will have to buy a shitload of condoms, but I wouldn't do all of this if I didn't think it's worth it."

Mello stared at him, letting the words sink in.  
"Damn, your mother must be Mother Theresa or something..."  
"Yeah, and my dad's Gandhi. I just hope I don't end up as bald as him." Matt chuckled.

Matt's hands reached the back of Mello's head, pulling him into a kiss. It started as tender pecks, Mello still holding back, when Matt only wanted to deepen it. He stopped, his forehead resting on Mello's.  
"Mello, I know I can't get AIDS through a kiss, so stop worrying. I may look like I'm crazy, but I'm still pretty conscious of what I'm doing and I'm educated about AIDS, or at least I know the basics, so unless I am really doing a mistake at a given moment, just stop being so cautious, okay?"  
"'Kay." Mello barely had the time to reply, Matt attacking his lips again, their tongues finally mingling.

They were kissing for a long moment when Matt began to push Mello against the back of the couch, resting on top of him. His lips left Mello's mouth to travel along his jaw, down his neck, giving shivers to the model.  
Soon, Matt's hands were under Mello's tee shirt, exploring his chest. A moan escaped Mello as Matt's thumb brushed against one of his nipples. Matt pushed the shirt upwards, reaching for said nipple, teasing it with the tip of his tongue before sucking on it, trailing across Mello's chest to give the other the same treatment. Mello's breath became heavier as he felt Matt's hand squeeze his thigh, still kissing his torso.

Matt pushed Mello's tee shirt above his head, the garment landing on the living room floor. He hovered above the model, smiling.  
"Don't move from here." he whispered, his voice shaky with lust.  
Mello's eyes followed him until he lost sight of him, but the redhead was back quickly, brandishing a handful of condoms, "Ammos: check." he said in the most serious tone, throwing them on the coffee table as Mello laughed, shaking his head.  
"Are you sure that will be enough?" he asked.  
"Don't underestimate me, princess." Matt resumed his previous position after throwing his own shirt on the floor, diving for a kiss, cutting Mello's laughter.

The kiss quickly heated, Mello's hands travelling down Matt's spine, resting on the small of his back as he shifted to let Matt fall between his parted legs, his knees bending to allow his pelvis to find some friction. Matt could feel himself grow hard quickly, Mello's erection obvious under himself.  
He reached for Mello's zipper, his hand slipping into his pants and grabbing his member through his underwear. Mello's breath itched under the caresses, his eyes closing as he let out a breathy moan.  
He opened them again when he felt Matt slide downwards and his jeans and underwear being pulled off him. Matt got rid of his own remaining clothes, already reaching back for Mello's erection. He stopped though.  
"I can't suck you off without a condom, right?" he asked.  
"No." Mello bit his lower lip, looking at Matt grab one on the coffee table, rip the wrapping open, and slowly cover his member with it.  
He couldn't refrain a loud groan as he felt Matt's mouth around him, warm through the rubber. He watched intently as Matt, still blowing him, grabbed another condom, and felt him shift as he placed the second condom over his own penis.

Spreading a good amount of lube over his member, Matt positioned himself back between Mello's legs, and began to prepare him with the liquid remaining on his fingers.  
"Fuck me, please..." Mello murmured, his arms around Matt's neck, his lips to his ear, leaving soft kisses along his jugular vein, "I haven't been touched for two years and I'm about to explode." he chuckled.  
Matt realised how much was held in that simple statement. One more thing he wanted to make up for...

Resting on his elbows, he slowly eased himself inside of Mello. The latter hissed, letting a shaky breath out to relax.  
"That's what you get for being impatient." Matt pecked at his lips, "Do you want me to stop?"  
"No... move."  
Matt pulled out, and as gently as he could, slid in again. It took only a few seconds for Mello to adjust, and his growing moans got the best of Matt's control. Mello pushing on the small of his back to take him deeper didn't help either, and Matt picked up the pace, his eyes focused on Mello's half lidded ones.  
They shot open though, Mello's eyes starting to water, the tears soon rolling on his cheeks as he climaxed, unable to hold it. His head fell against Matt's shoulder, the redhead's pace becoming erratic until he came too in a shuddering breath.

Panting, Matt straightened, reaching for the condom around his member, but Mello grabbed his hands before he did.  
"Let me do that." he said, taking it off Matt, then doing the same with himself. He stood up to throw them away in the bathroom, washed his hands, joined by Matt who leant on the doorframe, waiting for him.  
"That's not very romantic." Mello chuckled as he dried his hands.  
"Romantic is overrated." Matt pushed himself off the wall as Mello walked in front of him, snaking his arms around his waist.  
"But we can still arrange that..." Mello stated, his fingers tracing Matt's lips.  
"Oh, and how?" Matt asked, kissing Mello.  
"I love you."


End file.
